


The Pitch

by KinugoshiDofu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Chaser!Regulus Black, Chaser!Sirius Black, Dislikes Quidditch in general!Remus Lupin, M/M, Marauders Friendship, Marauders' Era, Quidditch, Seeker!James Potter, gryffindor vs slytherin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 21:39:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10052381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinugoshiDofu/pseuds/KinugoshiDofu
Summary: Remus is not into Quidditch at all, but when you have a secret boyfriend that plays, there’s not much to do but watch and pray to Merlin you won’t have to see him crash. And when he does, there’s nothing left to do but kiss the booboos.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm adding stuff I really loved writing and love rereading to my repertoire here~!  
> Also, I know James wasn't a seeker but a chaser, but for the purpose of this fic I wanted him a bit removed from the game (looking for the snitch made a good excuse for that) so I made him a seeker instead!

* * *

 

 

The pitch was a total mess. Actually, Remus had to rephrase; the pitch wasn’t that much of a mess, but the sky above was. To say that the Slytherins were playing dirty was a definite understatement. They were kicking and screaming in hopes of gaining another two hundred points before James could catch the snitch and finish the match.

Rain was pouring down, soaking both players as well as supporters, thunder crackling up above. Honestly? It was catastrophe in its finest form. Remus watched all players intently, hoping to recognise his boyfriend one way or another. There was no telling who was who, the only difference between their blurry features the colours of their robes.

The goalposts on either side of the pitch were near invisible, and though Remus knew slim to nothing of the game, he realised just as well that these were very poor conditions to play in.

It was very hard to see what was going on exactly. The players were basically blots hovering up in the sky, kicking at each other as they flew past a player that wore a colour different from their own. Remus had counted at least sixteen fouls concerning the bats and he knew for sure he’d seen a Slytherin _bite_ his way to the quaffel – actually, he had a suspicion that was Regulus’ doing – it was absolute mayhem, but rather entertaining to watch.

Remus was halfway through cheering the Gryffindors on when a strong thunder cracked and everything suddenly happened fast.

For a single second the whole pitch was illuminated in blinding white light and it wasn’t until the commentator yelled: “player down!” that Remus noticed that someone had indeed lost his or her broom, a figure tumbling down from the sky, racing towards the ground at top speed.

For a reason unknown, even to him, he got the gut-wrenching feeling that he _knew_ that particular body very well. Perhaps better than he should, really, but that was beside the point at that moment.

“SIRIUS!” he couldn’t explain how he knew, exactly – it was just a sort of fear, a knowledge, it was profound and ran deep. He just _knew_.

He pushed his hair from his face – everything was too wet, his clothes heavy and his body frozen to the bone – pushing his way through the crowd to reach the back of the bleachers. The other students grumbled when he bumped into them, but he ignored them in his rush to reach Sirius.

Spurting down the wooden stairs, he shivered when cold air hit him once again – even though the rain couldn’t touch him there, the air was like thousands of little needles puncturing his skin – he tried going _faster_ , relieved when rain hit him again because that only meant he was _closer_.

He saw the figure in the pitch stumbling to get up – the ground was slick and muddy – waving at the crowd to let them know he was okay, but he kept on going, needing to see him, _feel him_ , just to be sure.

Remus hopped over the fence, ignoring Hooch’s cries, nearly falling himself, and let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding when Sirius turned to him, smiling.

“We _won_ Moony!” he had that pleased, almost arrogant, typical Sirius grin on his face that made Remus’ heart leap – and even though he was wet, cold seeping through his skin, with his limbs protesting and exhausted by his run, he couldn’t help but smile along.

Even if Sirius was a stupid bitch that always made him worry, every time again and again.

In the distance, he could make out James Potter, proudly making a summersault, Snitch held in his outstretched hand. The crowd was going mental – all Gryffindor girls cheered Sirius on, the bitches – Slytherins booing and insulting the other players. Their insults were drowned out by the cries of the rest of the school though, everyone ecstatic Gryffindor had won the cup.

“We _won_!” Sirius was still grinning when he embraced the brunette, squeezing their soaked frames so tight they were making squishy noises.

Remus squeezed back just as hard, accepting the hug with enthusiasm. He could feel Sirius’ grin press into his neck, and suddenly the raven’s arms were sliding down, wrapping around his hips. He panicked slightly, thoughts running through his head at a thousand miles an hour, because he was painfully aware of how, any moment now, someone would notice how improper their friendly hug was suddenly getting. And then when that happened, rumours would start spreading, and Remus was _sure_ Sirius wouldn’t appreciate that, with his reputation of being such a manwhore and a lady-killer.

Sirius didn’t seem to notice, because he wound one arm tight around the brunette’s lower back, pulling back slightly so he could smirk at his ‘friend’. Really, Remus _wanted_ to object, but it had been almost three hours since Sirius had held him close and honestly, he couldn’t be blamed for this, because Sirius was the one doing the improper touching, giving him that smug leer that told him he knew fully well that he was making Remus hot. The bastard.

When Sirius dropped through his knees, so he could wrap his other arm just below Remus’ arse, firmly around his thighs, and hosted him as if he weighed nothing, he freaked out. He brought his own arm around Sirius’ neck in fear of falling, part of him arguing that Sirius would never let that happen. The thought that any one of his boyfriend’s many admires could be watching freaked him out further, and he eeped cutely. Sirius still wore that enchanting, mischievous smile, and rubbed his nose against Remus’ in an Eskimo kiss, holding the lither body close to his own.

“Sirius,” Remus hissed, looking around panicky – the team was descending now, but the bleachers had gone quiet, and he could feel hundreds sets of eyes focused on him – continuing urgently: “someone will see.”

“Of course not,” Sirius chuckled, forcing Remus to look back at him instead of at the crowd by pushing his nose into his cheek – when their eyes locked, Sirius’ grin widened, and he muttered: “I’ll make sure _everyone_ sees.”

Before Remus could comprehend what he meant by that, Sirius’ warm lips were pushing against his own and the hand on his lower back slid down to grab his ass instead. He moaned into the kiss, blushing at the noise, glad it was swallowed by Sirius’ mouth, and wrapped his arms tighter around the older boy’s neck.

They parted reluctantly, and were immediately engulfed by hundreds of students – spectators and players alike – cheering and yelling as they were pushed into the general direction of professor Dumbledore, so they could receive the cup.

Sirius grin was as radiant as ever, and he looked rather pleased with himself, unbelievably smug. He was pumping his fist up in the air with joy, adding to the happy shouts, the hand on Remus’ arse keeping their bodies closely locked. He gave it a lewd squeeze, winking obscenely at the brunette, and Remus couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

Instead of complaining though, he tipped his head down and connected their lips once more, opening his mouth to accommodate Sirius’ tongue – because honestly, making out in hall-closets and behind closed drapes was always delightful. But making out in public, where everyone could see that Sirius was rightfully his?

It was just so much better.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh yeahhhh


End file.
